


Green Monsters

by mrwiseman (HowNovel)



Series: Hybrid [2]
Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/mrwiseman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Scott returns to school, he finds himself the object of interest for the most popular girl. When her ex-boyfriend goes after Amy, Scott finds himself finally confronting his grown up feelings. Meanwhile, Paul begins work at a portrait studio that might be dealing in more than family snapshots. When the police seek Paul’s help to bust the dealer, will Fox be far behind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Monsters

Starman: Green Monsters

By mrwiseman

©June 2013 

All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction based on characters and situations created in the 1984 feature film and 1986-87 television series, _STARMAN_. It is an amateur publication circulated without profit for the enjoyment of fellow fans. No infringement of existing copyrights is intended.

San Padre, California…October…

“Scott, you are going to be late,” Paul said, handing Scott his books and pushing him out the door. Scott glanced at Amy dressed in her waitress uniform and was again worried. 

“Why can’t I take off school for just one day? I can hang out at the diner where Amy is going to be working. I can make sure she is okay.”

“Amy will be fine. I will be right next door at the studio. If Amy has a problem, she can come get me. Besides, she knows what to do. Mr. Gilles is a patient man. He will help Amy.” Paul insisted, and he continued to nudge Scott out the door.

“Okay, okay,” Scott said relenting. Then he talked louder so Amy could hear him, “Amy, I’ll be in after school to walk you home. Don’t walk home until I get there.”

Amy nodded and said, “Okay, Scott.”

She looked a little nervous, so he yelled one more thing before his dad shut the door. “You’ll be great!”

He saw her smile before he was unceremoniously placed in the hall. He laughed and went on his way.

They had been in town for two weeks. At first they had been unable to find any work. Paul had insisted Scott return to school while he looked. It frustrated Scott that as soon as he’d been in classes for a week, jobs became available. First, Paul got a job at a downtown portrait studio, and then Amy next door at the _Heavenly Diner_. Scott felt that he’d be contributing nothing while they worked.

Even more than not earning money, it really bothered him to leave Amy. At times she seemed so innocently naive that he was afraid for her. From almost the first day since her ship crashed, and he met her, he had become determined to protect her. It didn’t help his frustration that he fought his attraction to her every day they were together. He had told himself, and Amy, that they were good friends. She was still learning about being human, and he didn’t want to pressure or confuse her in any way. No, they would be good friends, which was the safest choice, considering she oftentimes slept only a few feet away from him. Being good friends seemed the least complicated solution.  
  
---  
  
At school Scott had learned to keep his head down and mind his own business. He knew his dad hoped that he was making friends, and generally being a kid. Scott, however, had become singularly focused on getting his diploma and applying to college. He had been researching colleges which offered correspondence work, and hoped that he could in that way obtain a degree. It didn’t seem to matter to make friends when at any moment you might have to run for your life and leave them all behind. Scott had learned to avoid entanglements. His world was looking for his mom, and being with his dad, and now Amy. That was enough.

So he hadn’t noticed that Lisa Jefferson had her eye on him. Lisa Jefferson was a walking cliché. She was the head cheerleader, editor of the school newspaper, star of the drama club, and girlfriend of Chuck Rodriguez, the school quarterback. She was also popular, blond, well-proportioned, and ready to do anything to make her on again/off again boyfriend jealous. Scott Hayden looked to be perfect for her plan. 

Mrs. Jacobsen had suggested Scott for the newspaper when he received the highest grade on an essay in English class. That was all it took for Scott to come into Lisa’s sights. He was attractive, smart, and from what she heard, had traveled everywhere. She suspected he’d be experienced in many things. She thought he’d have just enough going for him to get under Chuck’s skin, but not enough to resist the ego stoking for which she intended to use to draw him in. She could only think, _look out Chuck!_

Chuck, as far as she was concerned, deserved this treatment because of his constant need to flirt with anything in a cheer uniform. He’d also been spending too much time with his friends, acting spaced-out, and generally ignoring her. Didn’t he realize that he didn’t deserve her?

So Monday afternoon, she sauntered over to Scott as he opened his locker and introduced herself. He pleasantly said hello, but not much more.

“Mrs. Jacobsen told me you had the best paper on the civil rights movement. She let me read it. It was really good,” she said, flashing Scott her most charming smile. “I think you would be perfect for the newspaper. I am the editor-in-chief.”

Scott returned her smile, but declined politely. “I’m sorry, I can’t. My dad’s work often means we have to move without warning. It wouldn’t be fair to join and then have to leave.” Scott closed his locker and began to move away.

“Wait, Scott,” she said, trying to put just enough pout into her voice, “I am desperate. I would be happy if you could come to our meeting Thursday in the library after school. May be you could write at least one article. I could take anything you can give me. I mean, I have lost several of my press club members to that dreadful football practice. I could use someone of your caliber. I mean you’re well-traveled…you have at least been out of this stupid town and could offer insights to dull minds around here. Please.”

Scott was flattered. He liked writing. The paper he’d written for English may have been about black Americans’ efforts for safety and equality, but for him, it had stuck a personal cord. He was being hunted for who he was by his own government. What they had planned for him was as bad as any lynching. It has been an easy topic in which to identify and write. Ideas of equality and tolerance would be his themes if he wrote. He told Lisa as much.

Lisa clasped her hand in delight and said, “That would be perfect! Something really deep. Tell me you’ll be there Thursday.” She then looked expectantly toward Scott. Feeling pressured, he relented.

She squealed her approval. Then, as if she spied something over his shoulder, she bounced on her toes and kissed Scott on the cheek.

“Thank you. I’ll see you Thursday.” She then pranced away, grinning from ear to ear. 

The truth be told, Scott found it all very flattering. He stood and watched her walk away. She stopped when she got across the school yard, turned and gave him a flirtatious little wave. Scott waved back and stood there a little bewildered.  
  
---  
  
Later...

Amy was just getting off her shift when Scott came by at four o’clock. She had started work at eight and had worked for eight hours on her feet. She looked beat. 

“How was your day?” He asked, as they walked slowly back to their apartment.

“I broke plates,” she said, sounding defeated.

Scott tried not to chuckle at what must have been a tough day. Curious, he asked, “How many plates did you break?”

Amy looked sideways at him, sighed, and said, “Two.”

Scott didn’t think that sounded so bad. He told her anyone can break two plates on their first day.

Amy sighed again, “But the first plate I broke fell into the garbage disposal breaking _it_. Then when the man came to fix the sink, he backed into Mr. Gilles’s car. When Mr. Gilles was out with the man, I broke another plate...over a customer’s head. Not on purpose, but he still yelled….I did not blame him.”

Scott chucked imagining the scene. When Amy looked hurt, he took her hand and led her to a park bench nestled in a grouping of trees across the street. He felt sorry of her and wished he could tell all of her customers to give her a break. She’d only been human for four months.

“I am sorry. I promise I wasn’t laughing at you. It just sounded like you had a lot of bad luck, and sometimes it is easier to laugh about it than cry.” Scott explained as best he could, “I really am sorry, but your day could not have been all bad. I know you well enough to know that you did your best.” She had been staring at the street as he talked, so Scott gently turned her face to meet his gaze.

She smiled weakly and reached into the pocket of her uniform. She put money onto his hand and said, “I made something called ‘tips.’”

Scott chuckled again and told her, considering the amount, she must have actually had a very good day. People would only have left this much money if she’d done a good job. 

“Not that I am surprised.” Scott added with pride.

With that Amy beamed at Scott. Scott hadn’t realized his fingers had found the side of her face again. Why did he always want to touch her? In fact, they always seemed to be touching. He held her hand sometimes when they walked together. She always leaned on his shoulder when they sat on the couch. Months back, they had clung together in a cave out of fear, and somehow they had just kept clinging. It had become normal. But at moments like these, Scott knew it wasn’t ordinary. He could feel her body’s warmth radiating under his fingertips. He could feel the spark that he felt with every touch. 

Almost as if he had no will of his own, Scott leaned in and kissed her. The kiss started cautious and gentle, but soon became more. Scott gave in, fell in, and jumped in to every longing he’d had toward Amy. He had never kissed a girl like he was kissing Amy. He ignored his internal alarm system that reminded him of his pledge to be her friend only. He shunned the voice of his conscience that warned him she was vulnerable. She was alien…her body a copy of a human…they were on the run…his dad would not approve. All the intellectual arguments were abandoned at that heated moment. He wanted to kiss her. 

For Amy, she could not get close enough to Scott. She didn’t understand why her spirit sought his company, her mind sought his conversation, or her body sought his touch. Paul had explained how human men and women united to form new life. He had tried to explain love. He had told her his story of love with Jenny Hayden. Amy had tried to understand. Only now did it really make sense. She knew she must love Scott Hayden. She knew her body wanted to unite with him. She reveled in the feelings the kiss was igniting in her. She pulled Scott to her and hoped he would not stop.

All at once, a line was crossed. Scott began pulling away. They were in public where anyone could see them. Being observed was the first thought that he allowed to ‘wake’ himself up. He also realized that Amy was offering no resistance. It frightened him a lot. He had kissed girls before. When he had been kissing them, he could almost feel a wall go up to keep him from going too far. In kissing Amy he suddenly knew he had no barrier. If they had been in the apartment, and not on the park bench, he was sure she would let him take her to bed. He was ashamed by how much he was tempted. 

All at once, he pulled away. For a moment they sat stunned and out of breath. Amy reached for him again. Terrified of his own reaction, Scott stood up and took a few steps from the bench. If he was going to resist, he would need distance.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” Scott said, when he finally could speak.

Amy looked at him completely confused and asked, “Why Scott? It is not what human men and women do…when they love each other?” For Amy it seemed logical.

“But we are just friends Amy. Friends don’t do that.” Scott said, trying to convince himself as well as Amy.

He waited a minute in silence until he had formed a logical argument in his mind. All the while her eyes pleaded with him, almost begging him to love her. He couldn’t. He knew it to his very soul. If he gave in and made love to her, it could only be if he was ready to vow never to leave. To love Amy meant forever. He was seventeen, what did he know about forever?

He sat down again on the bench, but he kept a safe distance. He began hoping she would understand.

“Amy, you haven’t been here all that long. You are still learning to understand your feelings. If we kept doing what we were doing…I would be hurting you. When two people do what we started to do, they have to be sure. They have to be ready to spend their whole lives together, especially us…because of what we are. You haven’t been here long enough to know, to know for certain that I am what you want. Not really. You need more time. You need to meet more people. You need to go on a date. You are my friend, and I care about you. I don’t want to ever hurt you…ever.”

Amy wanted to cry, and she didn’t understand. 

She did trust Scott. Scott had been her teacher from the first day she had met him. Even before they had met, they’d communicated through the sphere. Her consciousness had in a flash gleaned knowledge from his mind. If he said they couldn’t be together, then he would know. She tried to accept what he said, despite how she felt, or she thought she felt. Human feelings were so perplexing. Even as Scott told her she didn’t really love him, she longed for his hand in hers. She would resist these thoughts if Scott said that she must.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Scott, but said quietly, “Okay, Scott Hayden.”

Scott could see Amy was struggling to trust him. For a second he became concerned that denying his feelings might hurt her worse than loving her, but he promptly dismissed those concerns. He couldn’t really be in love, ready for “forever”…he was only seventeen.

“Come on. Dad will be home soon,” he said gently and held out his hand. For the first time Amy failed to take it. She instead got up and started walking on her own.  
  
---  
  
Washington D.C…

George Fox sat anxiously going through reports. General Stevens waited with impatience. The others who sat around the conference table, also showed annoyance with the man presenting.

Suddenly Fox found the report he needed and smacked it down on the table in front of him. He stood and declared, “This report by Dr. Hind, found that the alien we obtained, had unknown substances in his blood. His DNA contained never-before-seen markers. These aliens might also contain yet undiscovered germs and bacteria…dangerous to the human populations of the world.”

George began walking about the room and passionately continued, “So even if as you argued, General Stevens, that they haven’t appeared hostile…who is to say they are not a danger to your children and grandchildren? Besides, I have documented evidence of the damage they did two years ago to a government lab. I assure you I believe that this alien, known to us as Paul Forrester, and any other aliens that could invade at any time, are indeed hostile. They are also smart. There is a plan here. Why else would they come?” Fox let the point resonate. 

Then seeing that his argument was finding its mark, he went on with even more finesse, “I think the offspring continues to be the key. The hybridization between humans and aliens forming a new species is an ever increasing danger…one…that will one day overwhelm our human population. We cannot stop pursuit now. We can ignore Forrester for perhaps days, months, or years, only to find that he has borne an army under our noses…has spread a plague while you cut budgets and prayed for the best.” 

Looking at their faces, Fox knew he had won at least this battle. His funding would continue.  
  
---  
  
The Happy Portrait Studio…

Paul Forrester was puting away the studio camera and accessories into the safe. He hoped that he could take more pictures tomorrow, or he could not imagine Jimmy would be able to keep him on. In the week since he came to work at the portrait studio, he had only taken two pictures: one a portrait of an old lady’s schnauzer named Ruffles, and the other, a passport photo for a Mrs. McGinty. Not that the studio wasn’t busy. Many times during the day, people would come in and go to the back to talk to Jimmy Dugan, his boss. Jimmy seemed to be a friendly guy. The studio was well named. Most of the time the visitors left the studio happy and thanking Jimmy.

Paul had liked Jimmy when he met him. Jimmy was only about 30 years old and was almost always in a good humor. He was thrilled that he had a “real authentic photographer” when his other man quit. He had offered a very good salary, and Paul was glad to take it. He had Scott and Amy to consider now. Jimmy spent most of his day in the room behind the studio. He told Paul he had complete confidence in him, and to send back any of his friends if they ask for him. Jimmy Dugan seemed to have a lot of friends, but not a lot of customers. Jimmy didn’t seem to know anything about photography. Paul wondered how he came to own a photographer’s studio.

As Paul grabbed his things, Jimmy came to the front and handed Paul an envelope.

“In cash, like you asked. Good work this week, Paul. I appreciate you covering me up here in the front office,” he said, slapping Paul on the back.

“But we haven’t had many customers,” Paul said, mystified. _How could Jimmy approve of his job?_

“Well, you got to give it some time, Paul. Folks will hear that I finally have a great photographer and they’ll come running…why just yesterday, I had a really good bite for you to do some fancy wedding. I betcha that guy calls before the end of the week!”

Paul opened his envelope and counted five hundred dollars. He asked Jimmy if he made a mistake. He had worked only one week.

“That there is a bonus, Paul. Like I said you are going to be good for business. I included a bonus just so you’ll stay as long as you can. Go home,” he said, looking at his watch and laughing, “or I am going to have to add another hundred for overtime.”

Paul didn’t understand Jimmy Dugan, but he seemed so agreeable. The money was needed, so Paul put it in his pocket, grabbed his jacket and started to leave. More of Jimmy’s friends arrived as he walked out the door. Jimmy must be this nice to everyone, Paul speculated.  
  
---  
  
Later at home…

Paul arrived, and it didn’t take long for Paul to feel the occupants of their small two bedroom efficiency apartment were unhappy. Scott was cooking, and Amy was silently reading a book at the table. Normally they would be chattering about one subject or another, but today not a word.

“What is wrong?” Paul asked, as he put his jacket on a hook by the door, and he came and sat down at the table.

Scott seemed preoccupied and not hearing him, asked, “What?”

“No one is talking. Around here that means something bad.”

Amy set down her book; she looked tired and said, “I broke plates.”

She told Paul about her day at work. Paul ended up agreeing with Scott, when he saw her tip money, that she must have really done a good job. Even with her story of plate breaking, Paul wondered what was wrong. Since no one would say, he showed them his good fortune.

Scott was impressed, “Wow, Dad! What did you do down there, take a picture of a rock star?”

“No. I didn’t take anyone’s picture.” Paul replied.

“You didn’t take anyone’s picture and got five hundred dollars?”

Paul replied, “Jimmy says it is a bonus. That I will bring in more customers, and that it is to get me to stay.”

Scott considered a moment, “Well I guess that is true. Paul Forrester is a big shot award-winning photographer…so maybe. I still think it is weird.”

Paul looked concerned, “Do you think I should not have taken the money?”

“No….I definitely think we should keep the money. Your five hundred, Amy’s forty-three dollars and my no dollars, added together with what we already have…is a grand total of five hundred forty-six dollars…so yeah we better keep the money.”

“I think Amy should keep her own money this time,” Paul suggested.

Amy became more alert, “What would I buy with it?”

Paul thought for a second, “What human girls like to buy I guess.”

“What do human girls like to buy?” Amy responded, seeming a little anxious—as if the idea of buying something was a challenge, rather than something fun to do.

Suddenly, Scott turned around from the stove and both faces were looking at him, waiting for an answer.

“Well…not being a human teenage girl and all… I don’t know…clothes I suppose…shoes…and makeup?” Scott replied, not sure how he felt being consulted as an expert on teenage girls— human or alien—after the day he had. Thinking about human girls, Scott remembered his conversation and promise to Lisa.

“Thursday, I will be late getting home.” Scott said matter-of-factly.

“Oh yeah, Scott…Sports?” Paul asked with interest.

“No, actually yours truly was invited to join the staff of the distinguished _San Padre High School Bugle_. I got asked to write a few articles for the paper. Thursday after school is when I have to go to a very official _Bugle_ meeting.” Scott announced with mock fanfare.

Paul had that look of fatherly pride that Scott had become all too familiar with and said, “I am proud of you, Scott.”

Scott smiled at his dad. He had a feeling he could tell his dad he was becoming a champion gum chewer, and he would be proud of him. Paul was just happy to be a dad. That didn’t mean that Scott didn’t appreciate his confidence in him.

Then Scott recalled how he had been with Amy this afternoon and thought his dad’s pride may not be so well placed. 

Remembering his plan to walk Amy home every night, Scott asked, “Dad can you walk Amy home, Thursday. Maybe she could wait with you over at the studio until you get done for the day.”

“I can walk back myself, Scott Hayden,” Amy shot back sharply. She didn’t quite understand why she was angry…but she suddenly was angered by Scott’s protectiveness.

Scott, who was suddenly annoyed that she was annoyed, shot back, “Fine!”

Paul sat looking strangely at both of them as they retreated once again into silence.

“Why are you angry, Amy? Scott?”

Scott, realizing as he set down dinner in front of them that he’d rather not explain to his dad how they made out on a park bench, calmed down and said, “We just had a disagreement is all…I’d rather not talk about it.”

Scott had hoped and prayed Amy would rather not talk about it as well. When she said, “I do not want to talk either,” he sighed silently with relief.

Paul had no idea on what to do or say, but had confidence that Scott and Amy would make peace. They had become too close to each other to stay mad for long.

Paul did turn to Amy and say, “I think Scott is right. You can come to the studio after work. It would be safer.”

Amy nodded and started to eat.

Scott shot Amy an apologetic look. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. On one hand he knew he had done the right thing by not giving in and becoming more physical with Amy. On the other hand he still wrestled with the idea of love and Amy. Could he be “in love”? Right now they were supposed to be friends, but they were not acting like friends. Had he lost that too?  
  
---  
  
Tuesday…San Padre HS…

After Physics class Scott made his way to his locker and got ready to go pick up Amy. He was nervous. They seemed to find some sort of truce last night after dinner. Yet, today they would have to go home the same way as yesterday—by that bench. He was a bit warm and uncomfortable even thinking about it. 

He had barely slept last night thinking of Amy in her bedroom. He was sleeping on the couch, mere feet away from her door. He imagined her lying in bed. He imagined lots of things. His brain had contemplated all the possibilities, and then he wrestled with his conscience until dawn. 

He needed a distraction, and, as if he had placed an order for one, over walked Lisa.

“Scott! You are still going to come to the meeting Thursday, right? I have told everyone, and they are excited. Paisley Simmons has some great ideas. You’ll love her! She thinks you could write a column. Like from Scott Hayden’s take on things. Like I said, we are so excited.” Lisa grabbed his arm and then wrapped her arm around his. 

“Are you going home? I was going over to _Henley’s_ …you know the place with the radically awesome burgers…you…could come with me.”

Scott looked at his watch. He was due to pick up Amy in a half hour. It would take him at least fifteen minutes to get to the diner. 

“Not today, I have to go take care of something.”

Lisa looked crestfallen, but perked up to ask, “Well, how about after the meeting Thursday? We could go to a movie. That really gnarly one at the theater about aliens! What do you say?”

Scott hesitated and then chuckled, “Aliens.”

And having still a hold of his arm, Lisa gently leaned into him and said, “Please…”

Scott chuckled again at the obvious high school attempt at seduction, “Yeah. Sure.”

Once again, she seemed to look over his shoulder. Much like the last time, she quickly kissed him on the cheek. She was slower to get away this time. Instead she lingered and smiled at him as if she had secret plans, and then went her way to her car in the parking lot.

Lisa had given him the signal that she liked him…that was for sure. Lisa, he decided, might be exactly what he needed. She made him feel seventeen, free and easy with her silly flirtations. It looked as if it could be a heck of a lot easier to be Lisa’s boyfriend than Amy’s “forever.”

Then, immediately, he felt ashamed of even mentally being disrespectful to Amy. It wasn’t her fault he felt a burden in his heart for her. His life just seemed too serious and grown up. Lisa made him feel his age with her flirty smiles, awesome cheeseburgers, and gnarly movies.

Scott noticed the time and took off walking toward the diner.

Amy was waiting when he arrived. She looked tired, but he was afraid to ask about her day. He was afraid to say anything. She simply followed in step with him, and they walked home.

As they passed by the portrait studio, Scott noticed a steady stream of customers. He decided that maybe his Dad’s boss was right, that “Paul Forrester” had brought in business. He didn’t notice he was being watched from the entrance of the studio. A boy in a high school varsity jacket watched Scott and Amy as they went down the street. The boy then stepped out to his car and sped off in a fit of jealousy.  
  
---  
  
Wednesday…

“What is this all about, Lisa?” demanded Chuck. “I keep hearing stories about you hanging around Hayden. I also see you kissing him! What the hell?

 

Lisa tossed her hair and began to walk away. It took everything in her power not to giggle with glee. It was working. Chuck had a lot of nerve considering that he really was taking her for granted. He ought to be grateful she’d even look his way. Lisa turned up the fire on her simmering pot.

“I don’t see what it matters to you. You told me a week ago that you were too busy to see me.” 

Chuck rushed to get in front of her as she walked. Facing her, he entreated, “Baby, I meant until football season was over, I would be busy. I get tired…I didn’t mean we were breaking up.”

“You are not tired enough to hang out with Ben, Jamaal, and Kevin…I see you out with them!” She said forcefully to his face. She started to walk around him.

In one motion he quickly reached out and held on to her arm, “They are my teammates…I have to hang out with them. It is a part of team spirit.”

Looking at him with daggers, “Well feel free to hang out with them all you want, because you no longer have a girlfriend to worry about.” Yanking her arm from his grasp, she walked on down the hall.

Once again Chuck got in front of her. This time the congestion of the hallway brought her to a stop.

Chuck apologetically caressed her face and moved in close to her, “I am sorry, baby. You are right. I don’t have practice this Thursday. Let’s do something together….How about _Henley’s_?”

Lisa took a step away, looking disgusted, “Feel free to go by yourself. I am going to the movies with Scott on Thursday.”

With the comment hanging in the air, she found a trail through the crowd and continued down the hall. Chuck was beginning to lose his temper and yelled, “Fine! Maybe Scott can bring _his_ live-in girlfriend along!”

Lisa spun around, giving him a look of derision, and then stomped off.  
  
---  
  
Lunchroom…

Scott wasn’t sure he wanted to eat his lunch. The mixture that had been plopped on his plate seemed to be something that would violate some sort of human rights laws. He decided the apple looked the most promising and had hardly bitten down when Lisa came and put her arms around him and sat down. He nearly choked.

When he was able to chew and shallow, he could only say lamely, ‘”Lisa, what’s up?” 

She had managed to maneuver his arm around her and cuddle into his side. It all seemed a little fast, considering they had only had two real conversations and mere plans for a first date.

“Oh Scott, my ex-boyfriend was being difficult,” she said, dramatically rolling her eyes. “Now that we are together, he was saying terrible things about you…things I know are not true.”

Scott suddenly felt he had gained a girlfriend when he hadn’t been paying attention. When exactly they’d become a couple, he had no idea. So he said, “Why didn’t you tell him we aren’t together…we are just two fellow Bugle writers? Besides what could he say about me that was so bad? He and I have never met…as far as I know….”

 

Lisa was careful with her words, she knew she was pushing everything a little quickly, but she had to find out if Scott actually had a girlfriend. If he did, she’d have to kick him to the curb and move on. It would be far too difficult to try to break Scott up from this girl and make Chuck jealous.

“His name is Chuck Rodriguez. He is quarterback and full time Neanderthal for the football team. He found out about our going to the movie Thursday…and he said things…he said...he said you actually lived with a girl….”

“I do,” Scott said, getting up from the table to throw his food away. He was not in a mood to bring Amy into this conversation. He also wondered how Chuck, whom he had never met, had known about Amy.

Lisa followed him to the trash can and nervously laughed, “Sister…Mother right? Chuck is such a jerk.”

“No. Amy is a friend...well…of the family,” Scott walked away towards the hall. As far as he was concerned, he was done talking.

Lisa found reassurance in the fact that Scott never said “girlfriend.” 

“Like I said, Chuck is a jerk....Does Amy go to school here?” stealthily probed Lisa with a tone of friendly interest.

Scott walked to his locker, and took out his Economics book and said, “No, Amy is out of school. She works. We are just friends.” With that, he hoped the matter was finished.

Lisa took the message and said thoughtfully, “Well, I am glad she isn’t your girlfriend. I’m going to tell you the truth, Scott...I am a little embarrassed to admit this, but I liked you right away.” Lisa was pitch perfect with her tune of shy embarrassment. Not giving Scott a chance to say anything, she continued, “I knew that you are a person who really cares about things beyond this high school. You care about things that matter. May be I am just growing up…but I want more than a dumb jock. I am sorry I was so pushy. I guess I was excited that someone like you could ever look at me. I suppose Thursday is off.”

Scott suddenly felt as if he’d been hasty in judging Lisa. Maybe she was more than a silly flirt. Figuring it would be mean to pull out of the date now, he replied, “No big deal. Thursday is still okay with me.”

Lisa almost danced in celebration of Scott’s falling for her “poor misunderstood girl act.”

She then kissed him gently the lips and said, “Thanks, Scott. I knew you would understand.”

Scott watched her walk away. When she knew her back was to him, Lisa grinned from ear to ear.  
  
---  
  
The Apartment…

Thursday morning had arrived and Scoot reminded Amy and his dad that he’d be home late that night, and that Amy would need to go to the studio after work.

“Your meeting, right?” Paul replied.

Scott then sheepishly added, “Yeah, and, afterwards, I am going with the editor of the paper to a movie.”

“It is good that you have made friends. Who is he?” Paul replied unknowingly opening up a whole kettle of awkwardness for Scott. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to make his going to the movies sound like a date. Of course it was a date…now after Lisa kissed him it was most definitely a date...whether he wanted it or not…it was a date. He was also certain that he didn’t want Amy to know.

It didn’t help his nerves that Amy sat with her eyes transfixed on his face waiting for the answer. Why did he feel so guilty, like he was cheating?

“You‘d like our editor Dad….Hey maybe you could take few pictures for the paper,” he said evading the question.

Paul noticed the evasion, and it made him wonder if Scott was doing something wrong tonight. Like a good father he replied, “Maybe. I still need to know who you are going with tonight.”

Scott resigned himself and, looking at his cereal, replied guiltily, “Lisa...Lisa Jefferson.”

Scott looked up in time to see Amy drop her head down to look at her cornflakes. Scott saw the hurt. He was sorry for it.

“Amy I’m…” Scott started to say, but Paul, who had yet to decode the looks that Amy and Scott were sending each other, was pleased and said cheerfully, “I hope you have a nice time.”

Paul did get puzzled by Scott’s odd look of displeasure. He did not look like he even wanted to go on a date. But from time to time Paul had come to the conclusion that teenagers sometimes made no sense. He decided this must be one of those times.  
  
---  
  
Amy had never known jealousy before, but walking next door to the studio after work, she was overwhelmed with the emotion. If anyone had asked her what was wrong, she wouldn’t have known what to call it, but she could describe it. It was a sad, angry monster, one minute growling, and next minute, sunk into a puddle of tears.

Amy didn’t cry. She didn’t have a right to cry. She knew Scott said they were just friends. She didn’t know what that even meant. She only knew she could not kiss him. She knew she could not get as close as she wanted to get to him.

Amy was beginning to get scared. She had only known this human world through Scott’s eyes. He had been her teacher through his mind and his words since she came to Earth. Now she wondered if this feeling of distance would be the end of her learning from Scott Hayden. That distance made her want to cry. She began to wonder if she should go home. Emotions were more painful than anything on her world.

When she arrived at the studio, she wearily took a seat to wait the hour until Paul could leave from work. Today she could see Paul taking pictures of a small girl who refused to smile. He saw Amy, waved and went back to work. 

Amy watched as people passed through the front of the studio and go to the back without stopping. Minutes later they went back out without stopping. Amy sat looking quite dazed by it all. She was tired, and it was all rather hypnotic. Then a boy’s voice spoke. It took a moment for her to realize he had talked to her.

“What?” She said, looking a rather large boy about her human age.

The young man chuckled, “I said you look beat.”

Amy was puzzled, “Beat by what?”

The boy laughed at what he clearly thought was a good joke. Amy laughed because he laughed. When stressed, she learned to mimic. It had become a safe way to maneuver through social situations. She used it all day at the diner. The customers often laughed at things she said. She didn’t know why.

The boy suddenly sat down in the seat next to her. He held out his hand and said, “Hi, my name is Charles Rodriquez, but you can call me Chuck.”

Amy shook Chuck’s hand and made herself smile.

He looked at her expectantly, and then asked, “What is your name?”

“Amy Parker,” Amy replied absentmindedly, for she was quite tired.

 

“Do you know Jimmy?” Chuck asked pointing to the back room.

Amy looked and replied, “No.”

Chuck’s face showed he was putting out an extra effort, but was flustered by Amy’s not taking an equal part in the conversation. Nonetheless, he didn’t give up.

He motioned to the area where Paul was taking the now wailing child’s photo and asked, “Are you going to get your picture taken?”

Amy replied again, “No.”

He decided to get to the point, “Why are you here?”

“I am waiting to walk home with Paul.”

For a second Chuck wondered who the heck was Paul, but then he remembered that Jimmy had called the new photographer “Paul.” Then Chuck became somewhat horrified, and asked, “He is not your boyfriend is he?!” 

Amy replied simply, “No.”

Chuck suddenly found the whole one-sided conversation funny. He chuckled.

Once again Amy chuckled too…and had no idea why.

It was even obvious to Chuck that she wasn’t really laughing.

“You must be really tired. I take it from your uniform you work at the diner next door. My mom is a waitress. She works at a restaurant called “ _Lumeria_ ” over on 9th. She has worked there for twelve years. Trust me, I know it is hard work. She often comes home as tired as you are. She used to come home and have me get her a cup of coffee so that she could wake up to help me with my homework. How about I get you a cup of coffee? There is a fast food joint that actually sells good coffee down the street. We could walk to get a cup. You’d be back when Paul is done. What do you say?” Chuck asked sweetly.

Amy thought Chuck was nice. She did not drink coffee with Paul and Scott. May be it would be a good thing. Scott had told her that she needed to meet other people. She supposed if she went with Chuck, she could show Scott she was trying to be what he wanted.

“Okay.” Amy got up and walked with Chuck. As they walked, he asked again, “Who is Paul…to you I mean?

Amy said what Scott and Paul always told people, “He is a friend of my family.”

“You don’t live with your mom and dad?” 

Amy replied, “No, I live with Paul and Scott.”

Chuck became alert with the name of the guy Lisa was out with tonight. He had to ask, “Who is Scott?”

“Scott Hayden is Paul’s son. He is my friend.” Amy said. She thought she felt pain in her chest when she said the word “friend.” 

Chuck saw something in her face that made him realize that Amy cared for Scott as more than a friend. He felt sorry for her. Although as soon as he had spotted Amy in the studio, he had planned to “put the moves on her,” now he just couldn’t do it. He wasn’t like Lisa. He’d never been good at playing any games other than football. Lately he didn’t care much for football. He didn’t feel like himself any more. His mother and he used to be the only team in his life. They had been ever since his dad left. Lately, all she did was yell at him all the time for staying out late. She went ballistic when she found his stash of weed. She and Lisa didn’t understand that a guy has to hang out with his fellow teammates. They had to be as close as brothers. His team used…he used too...may be too much is all. He, however, was in control. He had even decided that tonight was his last purchase at Jimmy’s studio. 

Now looking at Amy, he decided Lisa wasn’t worth it. He’d rather have someone like Amy who wouldn’t treat him like trash because his mother was a waitress. Lisa had always reminded him that her father owned the largest business in town. Even the other day she had made him feel like he should be grateful to have her for his girlfriend. He was sick of it!

Looking at Amy, he decided that if Scott would rather have Lisa, he’d let him. Amy seemed so much better. Scott was a fool.

They soon got their coffee and walked back to the studio. He found himself talking about his childhood and his mom. Amy never said much, but she listened. By the time they got to the studio, he asked her for a date. 

“Dinner tomorrow? I’ll take you wherever you want,” he said enthusiastically.

Amy knew that such things were called “dates.” Scott had told her to go on a date. She liked Charles Rodriguez. He was nice. So she said yes. 

“I do not know where to go,” she said to his request for her to choose a place for dinner.

Chuck smiled, “Okay, then I’ll pick…but dress nice. We will go to a classy place, I promise.”

Looking up, Chuck saw Paul packing up his things. “Where do you live? I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock, okay?”

Amy gave him their address and agreed to the time. Chuck smiled and waved goodbye.

Paul came over ready to go as Chuck left, “Who was that?”

“His name is Charles Rodriguez, but I can call him Chuck. He and I are going on a date tomorrow.”  
  
---  
  
The Fun House Theater…

Scott could not wait to end his evening. The meeting at school had been disappointing. The entire newspaper staff consisted of the cheerleading team. He had tried to offer suggestions about stories he could write, only to be ignored as Paisley, Bibi, Kristi and Candi offered up a plethora of nonsensical ideas, from a horoscope column to dating advice. Even before the meeting ended, in a girlish twitter of giggles as Bibi suggested Candi call someone name Sloan to go with her to the Halloween dance. Scott decided he was not joining the Bugle staff. He had to just think up an excuse.

It only became worse at the movies. Lisa had been all over him. He had tried to respond, but it just felt strange. She continued to do her impression of a strawberry lip-glossed octopus, until the movie ended. Even the movie itself was a bust, considering the green alien was nuked by the good-hearted government scientist. Scott figured he was biased, but he would have liked the ending better if the alien had nuked the scientist.

Scott managed to extricate himself from Lisa and get home before 10:30. When he came home, the apartment was quiet. Scott locked the door and readied himself to go to sleep on the couch. His eyes looked at Amy’s door as it always did at night. He had not enjoyed Lisa’s company as much he thought he would. Her kisses seemed empty and meaningless. There was no heat or spark and no feeling behind them. 

With Amy it had been so different. He finally began to understand.

Paul’s door opened. 

“I want it noted that I am home on time,” Scott said, getting a drink of milk from the refrigerator.

Paul smiled, “Yes, I noticed. How was your date?”

“It was a meeting and a movie.” He gave up trying to not call it what it was, and continued, “The date was terrible…including the meeting. They are not interested in my ideas. I am pretty sure that Lisa went out with me so that her friends in the theater can report back what they saw to her ex-boyfriend. So it’s not going to happen again.”

Paul looked concerned, “What did her friends see?”

 

Scott really didn’t need a sex education lecture tonight; he was just too annoyed with the realization his evening had been a complete waste of time.

“Well, they saw very little. I wasn’t interested.” 

Paul seemed satisfied with his answer.

Scott remembering Amy asked, “Did you walk home with Amy?”

“Yes, but tomorrow we will have to do without her. She has her own date.”

Scott was shocked, “What? What do you mean she has a date! She can’t have a date…,” Scott rambled on.

“She does. She is going to go buy a dress with her tip money. She says he is going to take her to a classy place.”

“Who? Who is going to take her to a classy place?” Scott all but demanded.

“His name is Charles. She met him at the studio today, and they got coffee. Then she said he asked her to go to dinner tomorrow. I think it is good thing for her.” Paul said simply.

“She’s not going,” Scott said flatly, “You have to tell her she can’t go.”

“Scott, I am not her father. I cannot tell her not to go,” Paul said, looking at Scott strangely. “Why are you so worried?”

Scott was frantic. In his head he searched for a reason why she couldn’t go. All he could come up with was how much he wanted to be with her, and at that thought, his brain froze. He’d never intended to admit _that_ , even to himself. No, Scott sputtered out the first excuse he could think of other than his feelings. “What if the guy is bad guy? He could try to…you know.”

Paul appreciated that Scott was concerned for her safety, but said, “I have talked to her; she understands the limits.”

Scott was nearly worked into an acute state of anxiety on the inside, but managed to keep it from showing. He could only think that days ago he could have gone to bed with the same girl his dad was telling him now understood sexual boundaries. Before he could speak again, Paul reminded him that she was her own person. They couldn’t tell her what to do, but that they were to meet Charles when he picked her up.

Paul smiled, “She will need someone to go with her to buy a dress after work tomorrow. I told her you would take her.”

“Thanks a lot,” Scott said, completely exasperated.

“I think you are forgetting that Amy doesn’t belong to us, Scott. We have kept her safe from Fox. But in this world, she has to find her own way.” Paul said looking at Scott with directness.

He then bid Scott goodnight and went back to his room.

Scott lay on the couch thinking for the first time that he wanted Amy to belong to them…well at least to him.  
  
---  
  
Stellar Boutique…

Scott sat outside the dressing room feeling miserable. He spent all day at school avoiding Lisa and thinking about how he could talk Amy out of her date. He had been successful at evading Lisa, but had less success with Amy and her date. Every excuse he thought up made him feel like a hypocrite. He knew he had told her to get out and meet people and try and date someone else. When it came down to it, Scott couldn’t say a word, and it was making him ill. 

Amy had not said much to him about the date. In the morning they had been nearly silent. Before leaving, Scott had promised to walk her to a place that sold dresses. When he picked her up from work, she had simply walked with him until they found a clothing store. 

Amy had struggled to find something she liked, because she didn’t know what she liked. Scott thought no matter how he felt, he had to be her friend, and picked out a few dresses for her to try on. Being a better man then he wanted to be, he chose things that would look pretty on Amy. Although he was sure everything would look pretty on Amy.

When she finally came out of the dressing room, he realized he’d been wrong. She didn’t look pretty, she looked beautiful. The dress she wore was hardly seductive. He’d seen so many girls wearing the style. On Amy, it looked perfect. The dress she had chosen was covered with pink roses and blue flowers. By the neck was a collar of crochet lace, and it had long sleeves with pearl buttons. She looked like a princess. Scott was sure he could look at her for the rest of his life.

“Do I look okay?” She asked timidly. She was unsure what the look on Scott’s face meant.

Scott spoke with all the admiration he felt, “You look fantastic.”

Amy blushed. Scott was endlessly fascinated how an alien would know how be shy and blush, but she did. Everything she did was honest and good. How could he have thought anyone else, like Lisa, would be someone he wanted. He knew it now, he was seventeen and in love. Not the silly, trivial, romanticized love, but the real kind…the forever kind.

For Scott Hayden, the future, and every love song he’d ever heard on the radio, finally made sense.  
  
---  
  
The apartment…

Scott, convinced he was having grown up feelings, did his best to act like a grown up. It would have been a lie if he pretended he wasn’t scared about the prospect of competition for Amy’s affections. He also knew it was his own fault. He was determined to be polite, but also find out everything he could about the guy.

When Amy came out of her room, Scott was once again entranced. After buying the dress, he had helped her buy shoes, purse, makeup, and a teen magazine to use the pictures to help her with her face and hair. Now seeing her all together, he once again felt like demanding her to give up the date.

Paul told Amy how nice she looked. He reminded her if she felt unsafe to come home. He gave her money for a cab if she needed to get one. 

When there was a knock on the door, Paul opened it to Chuck. He stood suitably dressed in a suit, and carried a small bouquet of florist shop daisies. Scott at once knew three things about this Charles: he was classy, he was polite, and he was ten times better looking. He was clearly a football player type, broad shouldered and muscular. Scott felt rather scrawny next to him.

Even Scott could see nothing wrong with him. Charles let Paul know that they were going to _Lumeria_ , a nice restaurant. He gave Paul a firm handshake. He then looked at Scott and gave him one too. Then he and Amy departed.

Scott sat on the couch hating himself even more than he did before Charles came, because, despite it all, he thought Charles appeared to be a nice guy. 

Paul broke the silence and said, “How about pizza tonight? I got paid today.”

Scott absentmindedly asked. “You get another $500?”

“Six hundred,” Paul said holding up the cash.

Scott shocked, looked at his dad, “What? Has business really picked up that much?”

“Well, we had six customers this week,” Paul said, sounding like he was as unsure if that constituted a lot more business.

“If I were you, I’d wonder if Jimmy was in the mob or something.” 

“Mob or something?” asked Paul having no idea what Scott was saying.

Scott wasn’t in the best of moods, so instead of belaboring the point, he replied, “I guess it doesn’t matter, as usual, we need the money.”

Paul saw Scott’s mood and thought he’d change the subject. 

“Chuck seems to be a nice person.” Paul said cheerfully, misdirecting the conversation to the topic that put Scott in his bad mood in the first place.

“Chuck?” Scott replied quizzically.

“Charles Rodriguez, he said she could call him Chuck.” Paul replied, wondering why Scott was becoming agitated.

Scott uttered, “Amy went out with Chuck Rodriguez?”

“Did I miss something, Scott? You were right here.”

Scott looked rattled, “His name was Charles… not Chuck!”

Without further conversation, Scott grabbed his jacket and flew out the door.

On his way to the restaurant, all he could think of was the fact this all had to be some massive revenge scheme. The guy had to be mad at him over Lisa. Lisa had said he knew about Amy. He was even worried that he wouldn’t find them at the restaurant. His brain was drowning in “what if’s.”

He arrived at the restaurant and was ready to storm in when he looked across the room and spotted them. It was Chuck and Amy. They were talking to their waitress. By the way the waitress hugged Chuck—and looked like Chuck—Scott guessed she was his mother. That alone did not stop him, but the look on Amy’s face sure did. She was smiling and laughing. Scott knew it was not the one she used when she didn’t know what to do, but a real smile and laugh. 

Scott had a hard time imagining that his busting into the room would leave that smile on her face. He’d ruin what looked like a nice night.

If this was revenge, it would be odd for Chuck to take the girl to meet his mother. Scott started to doubt his own fears. Then again, maybe this was the best revenge, because by the way Amy was acting, there was reason to believe Chuck had a chance.

Deflated, Scott decided to go home.  
  
---  
  
Later…

Amy couldn’t help thinking that she liked Chuck. He was nice.

The restaurant was very nice. Amy had never been to such a place. She was perplexed by the candles. She wondered if the restaurant has lost electoral power. She also could not figure out why the man with the instrument, called a “violin,” kept wandering around. She became worried that he would not get a spot to sit for dinner. Mostly, she had a nice time. Chuck’s mother was very kind to Amy. She had told Amy she looked fantastic. Amy thought it wasn’t as pleasing to hear it from Chuck’s mother as it had been when Scott had said it.

After dinner, Chuck showed Amy all the places he liked in his town. Eventually they came to a wooded area by a little lake.

Chuck described that when his dad was around, they used to go hiking in the area. The spot where he’d parked the car was always his favorite. Amy listened as he described a few of the times he had spent with his dad. Amy could tell it pained him to talk about his father.

Suddenly, Chuck reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a small bottle. He took a quick swig and handed the bottle to Amy. Not sure of what to do, she took a large swallow. Immediately she wished she hadn’t, because it tasted terrible and burned going down her throat. When she started to cough, Chuck apologized and asked if she were all right.

“Whiskey isn’t my usual choice to help me get through things.” Chuck offered up.

“That is good because I do not like this ‘whiskey.’” Amy said with a face that looked as if she were still experiencing something very unpleasant.

Chuck put back the flask and pulled out a baggie of joints he had rolled earlier.

“I am about to kick the habit. One more puff and these are going into the lake down there.”

Chuck meant what he said, or hoped he did. Tonight he had made his mom happy simply by telling her Lisa was out and someone like Amy was his new goal. He knew his mother disapproved of Lisa, so she was ecstatic by Amy’s wholesome presence. He liked that feeling. Knowing that his mother was on his side again made him feel better than he had felt in a long time.

Amy had no idea what he was talking about when he talked about puffs, so she nodded.

Chuck lit up the joint and took a long slow draw from it. It was his last, but being the gentleman, he offered a puff to Amy. She took the joint, looked at it and inhaled deeply. She began coughing again.

Once again, she told him she didn’t like it. He apologized again, and said he’d be back. Keeping to his word, he headed down to the lake with his stash. When he was looking at the lake, however, the sadness hit him again. For a few minutes he stood, smoking the joint absent-mindedly. Then abruptly he threw everything into the lake.

When he got back to the car, he knew he was feeling some of the effects, but having driven a bit high before, he thought nothing of it. He did wonder about Amy, who seemed to be groggy and odd. She giggled about strange things, which set him to laughing.

Chuck didn’t seem to notice that he was all over the place in his lane. Everything just seemed so funny.

They had nearly made it into town, and Chuck started to wonder if Amy had actually gotten as drunk and stoned as she seemed to be from one swig of alcohol and one puff from a joint.

He didn’t get a chance to think too much about it when lights of a police car lit up behind him.  
  
---  
  
The Apartment…

Scott hadn’t touched much of the pizza. Paul hoped he wasn’t getting sick. He was also all but certain he had underestimated the closeness between Amy and Scott. Scott had made a point of telling him they were just friends. He had explained why he had thought Chuck might be seeking revenge against him because of Lisa, and that he’d run out to be sure Amy was okay. Nevertheless, Paul could see suffering in his son. In many ways it reminded him of how he felt when he thought of Jenny Hayden. Scott had always been forthcoming with his emotions, and Paul figured Scott would tell him when he was ready.

They watched a movie on television until 11 o’clock. The whole time Scott had been checking his watch. By 11:30, he seemed prepared to go out and search. Paul had held him off until midnight, when even Paul was beginning to wonder. The phone rang just as they were about to head out the door.

Paul answered, and Scott was frustrated he was unable to infer what the phone call was about from listening to Paul’s end of the conversation.

Paul looked serious as he grabbed the money they kept in a drawer, and said, “We need to go, Amy is down at the police station.” Looking at the money, Paul added, “We may need this for something called ‘bail.’”  
  
---  
  
San Padre City Police Station…

Paul and Scott arrived at the police station with a ton of questions. Normally, even coming near a place like this would worry Scott. It was a place where George Fox was only a phone call away. Tonight Scott couldn’t get in the door fast enough.

An Officer Collier came over to them and explained that he had pulled a Charles Rodriguez over for driving while intoxicated. He had found Amy intoxicated in the passenger side of the vehicle. The officer told the two that Rodriguez had admitted giving Amy alcohol and marijuana, which he said she didn’t seem to understand what they were.

The officer seemed skeptical, but said that they were not going to charge Amy. She was to be released as soon as the paperwork was completed. Rodríguez was facing charges for his driving under the influence, and possession. They had found a joint that had fallen on the floor of his car.

Scott was stunned, and then he was angry. _How dare Chuck do this to Amy!_ When another officer led Chuck across the room, Scott couldn’t control himself. Scott moved toward them before someone could stop him, walked up to Chuck, and punched him. His hand throbbed afterwards, but he ignored the pain, taking only seconds to gear up for a second punch.

Paul and Officer Collier quickly held him back before he could hit Chuck again. 

Scott looked directly at Chuck, and yelled, “You stay away from Amy! Do you understand? Never come near her again!”

Collier asked Chuck if he wanted to press charges, but a defeated Charles Rodríguez held his cheek and shook his head.

The officer turned to Scott and said, “While I understand the reason why you did that, son, if you ever do it again, I _will_ charge you.”

While the officer completed paperwork, Paul took Scott to the restroom and used his sphere on Scott’s sore hand.

“It is not her fault, Dad, she just trusts people too easily.” Scott said, flexing his hand, now that it felt better.

“I think it is because she trusts you,” Paul said, looking closely at his son.

Scott was exasperated, “So this is my fault, too…?”

“No, Scott, that is not what I meant. I only meant that Amy came here, and you were her first human contact. In you she found a good, honest person. She is still learning not all humans share these characteristics.”

Scott looked at his dad, “What about Fox? She knows that humans can be bad. She has been scared of Fox ever since we met up in the desert. Ever since he killed Lin.”

“She knows to be afraid of what you are afraid of. That is why you are so important to her. You are her teacher.”

If Paul had hit Scott, his words could not have hurt him more. It was everything he had feared. That the girl he loved, who acted like she loved him, may only be dependent on him. It is why he had fought loving her from the start. 

Emotion gripped his voice, “Is that all I am, a teacher? Is that all I can ever be, Dad? Then what do I do…when I feel…?”

Paul finally understood. He saw now what he’d suspected. Scott loved Amy. It had been in front of him the whole time. 

Paul responded with compassion in his voice, “She can love you, Scott. I never said she couldn’t.”

“How will I know, Dad? How do I know that when she kissed me, it wasn’t just a misunderstood emotion? When she told me she loved me, maybe it was just because she is like you said, ‘dependent’ on me?”

Paul had not realized how his son must have been hurting, questioning his feelings. Paul figured that Amy’s date must originally been Scott’s idea. If Amy had told him her feelings, it would have required rejection from Scott to push her to Charles. Scott must have pushed her away, to keep himself safe—to keep her safe. He had learned his son was a young man of great character and could guess at the internal struggle Scott had put himself through. 

Paul put his hand on Scott’s shoulder and said, “Scott, I can tell you this, if she said she loves you, she loves you. The feeling to our kind is unmistakable. I knew your mother only days, but the feeling has never left me. It was like no other I have ever felt before…or since. It is why I came back to Earth…and why I won’t stop until I find Jenny Hayden.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked, seeking reassurance.

“Yes,” Paul said unequivocally, but added, “You are young and should be responsible. You are her knowledge of right and wrong. I know you will do right.”

“I promise you, Dad, I would never take advantage,” Scott said trying to make it clear he hadn’t asserted his affections.

Paul smiled, “I know, Scott. Now let’s go. I know how I felt after my first drink. Amy will not be feeling very well.”

Amy wasn’t feeling very well. She soon was brought to the front office and had to sit down. She was woozy and promptly found a chair by Officer Collier’s desk. Paul and Scott stood next to her, and waited for her release. When Collier stepped to a file room to get a form, Scott pulled out a sphere. The glow of blue soon changed Amy’s demeanor. Suddenly aware and sober, she was frightened by how she had felt. Paul wasn’t the least bit surprised that she stood up and found Scott. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Hey…Hey…,” Scott said soothingly with his arms around her in an embrace. He pulled back from her and put his hand on the side of her face. “You didn’t know. Some guys are jerks….and some guys don’t know a good thing when they see it.” It was clear Scott was speaking more about himself than Chuck.

Scott smiled at her, then hugged her again. Paul patted her shoulder and smiled. The dynamic of their team was changing again. 

Collier returned, and had Amy sign her release forms.

He looked at her and said, “Miss Parker, I do not ever want to see you again under these circumstances. Do you understand? I have seen a little weed and driving lead to car accidents where no one survived. Last summer we lost two kids in a major accident on the interstate for just a little weed....You were lucky. Your boyfriend in there is going to hopefully confirm where we think he got his drugs, so maybe a few less kids die tomorrow. Goodbye, Miss Parker.”

Paul was curious and asked, “Do you really know where the kids are getting their drugs, officer?”

“Yeah, we think some guy named Dugan is dealing out of some photo place on 9th, but until we get probable cause, I can’t get a search warrant. Maybe Rodriguez will talk…but even that may not be enough…the ramblings of a drugged teenager….” Officer Collier did not sound optimistic.

Paul at once understood everything that had been happening at the _Happy Portrait Studio_.

“Would it help if you knew someone who worked there, and they could tell you what was going on? Could you stop the drugs then?”

Collier looked up attentively, “Yeah, that would be great…probably could get more than a warrant… maybe even an arrest, but anyone who worked there would probably be in on it.”

“Well, I work there Officer Collier, and I am not in on it.” Paul said flatly.

Collier sat up, giving Paul his full attention, “You work there?”

“Yes, I am the photographer. I don’t take many pictures though…I have wondered why it is so busy.”

“You’ve seen the drugs and are willing to make a statement?” Collier asked enthusiastically.

Paul looked thoughtfully, “No, I have never seen the drugs. Like I told you, I didn’t understand why the studio was so busy you until told us about the drugs. I want to help you stop it, if I can.”

Officer Collier stood up and asked, “Are you willing to wear a wire in to work. I mean, it will mean you’d have to get Dugan to admit he sold drugs…it could be dangerous if he caught you.”

“Dad, come on. Are you sure you want to do something like this?” Scott interjected. Paul knew well that getting involved posed a greater danger than an angry Jimmy Dugan. Chances were good that the cops would eventually alert George Fox.

“It is the right thing to do, Scott. I have seen Charles Rodriguez in the studio. The drugs he gave to Amy came from where I work. Other kids could get hurt. If I can help, I must help.” 

Looking at Collier, he said, “Explain to me what I need to do…I work tomorrow.”

Collier smiled and held out his hand and asked, “Mr….?” Clearly he wanted Paul’s name, Scott put his arm around Amy. He knew that they would have to be ready to go as soon as Paul was done with work tomorrow. Hopefully they would not have to break him out of a holding cell.

“My name is Paul Forrester,” Paul replied, shaking Collier’s hand.

“Well, Mr. Forrester, let’s talk about tomorrow…”  
  
---  
  
Saturday morning…

The three had not slept much; by the time they came home, it was well past three o’clock in the morning. Scott immediately went to work packing their things. Amy gathered what food she could. At dawn, Paul went out and reluctantly used what cash he felt he really had earned to buy a used vehicle. The rest of the money he put back in an envelope. He did not feel right taking Jimmy’s bonus money that came from selling drugs.

It pained Scott to see him give up the money, but he couldn’t fault his dad’s principles, especially if those drugs could have hurt Amy.

When Paul went out, Scott had his first moments alone with Amy. She was organizing their things by the door, when Scott came up next to her.

“I’m sorry.” 

Amy looked perplexed, “Why are you sorry, Scott Hayden?”

Scott ran his hand threw his hair, trying to think up the right words, “I am sorry that I told you to go on a date. I am sorry that…that I said what I said.”

Amy continued to stand and wait for understanding to dawn. 

Scott suddenly became bolder. “I am sorry I said we are only friends, because we are not only friends. I realized something Amy…I…I love you.”

He didn’t give Amy a chance to say a word; he leaned in, put his arms around her, and kissed her.

Much like before, the kiss that started gently turned quickly into something deeper. Bodies pressed together. Scott realized if they were not going to get into trouble, _he_ was going to have to be the one to put up the stop signs. So slowly and reluctantly, he pulled back, but he kept Amy in his embrace.

She looked at him with wide, questioning eyes.

He knew he’d have to explain. “We can’t do everything our bodies want to do, not yet…we…I am only seventeen, and you’re still learning about being human. If we went too far, there could be unintended consequences….I could get you pregnant,” Scott said frankly, and then continued, “I don’t want us to have…sex…until I am ready to make a promise to you. A promise that I will never leave you...and I would want you at that time to want to make the same promise to me. Does that make sense?”

Amy nodded and then smiled. 

She looked thoughtfully at him and then quietly said, “I love you, Scott Hayden.”

Scott leaned in and kissed her again.  
  
---  
  
The Happy Portrait Studio…

Paul came to work as usual, except for the fact that he wore a listening device. He also knew police officers were waiting in a van across the street. As soon as they had verbal confirmation that Jimmy sold drugs, they would rush in and raid the studio.

Paul was nervous. He knew two blocks over, Scott and Amy waited in the truck he’d just purchased. As soon as the police came through the door, he had promised Scott he would leave. They had speculated that the officer had already run Paul’s name, and Fox would be arriving within hours.

Paul was aware he had very little time to get Jimmy to talk.

“Morning, Paul!” Jimmy said cheerfully, coming out of the back room.

“Good morning, Jimmy,” Paul said, worried he sounded peculiar when he said it. If he did, Jimmy did not seem to notice. He just gathered up some boxes and returned to the back room.

Paul decided he’d better get started and went with an idea that Collier had suggested.

“Jimmy!” he shouted toward the back room, as he went to open the door.

In the backroom, Jimmy quickly placed a box of many small sandwich bags full of something that looked to Paul like white powder into a locked filing cabinet. Paul could tell that Jimmy did not like Paul’s barging in to his private room.

“Paul, you need to knock, man!”

“I am sorry, Jimmy. I needed to talk. I need money, Jimmy. My kid needs to see a doctor…an expensive doctor in San Francisco.” Paul begged hastily.

Jimmy looked reluctant, and said, “Hey man, I get it, but I am not the charity department.”

Paul replied, “No, I don’t want you to give me the money, I thought I could work overtime…at night.”

Jimmy began stacking boxes and responded disinterestedly, “No one needs their picture taken at night, Paul.”

“How about I do what you do back here, just at night…quietly.” Paul let his voice have a lilt of duplicitousness that he felt a potential drug dealer needed.

Jimmy’s face became as serious as Paul had ever seen it, “And what do I do back here, Paul?”

Paul, praying he wouldn’t say the wrong thing, used his best Cheshire grin and replied, “You make people happy, Jimmy.”

Jimmy laughed and said, “I knew you couldn’t have been as stupid as I thought. Good job psyching me out, man!”

Paul stayed silent until Jimmy settled down, pulled out a large bag of what looked like dead plants, and began stuffing it into smaller sandwich bags. Paul knew he needed to get Jimmy to talk about the drugs, and the business. Paul couldn’t stay to testify to what he’d seen, so he had to get Jimmy to implicate himself on tape.

Jimmy started to speak before Paul could think up something to say. “You know it isn’t a bad idea you doing some late nights for me. The customers seem to often get their cravings at night. Yeah, I’ll help you out…but I am not going to lie to you. You’ll be taking on the risk at night. Cops bust in and I’ve never seen the stuff before…you got me?”

“Okay, thanks Jimmy. What so do we sell?” Paul asked, still trying to get him to talk.

“ _We_ don’t sell anything…I am the boss. The money is mine, remember that. But don’t worry, I am fair...I’ll give you $1000 for your kid…after you have worked that off, let’s say I give you 10%. Trust me you can get your kid six doctors for what you’ll make. Like I said, I am not greedy.”

Paul thought he must be terribly greedy to make money off people by selling drugs. Paul remembered he was supposed to act grateful and said with relief, “Thanks, Jimmy. You’ll have to tell me how much everything costs. I don’t want you to be cheated.”

Jimmy put the second box in the filing cabinet and locked it. The he took out another block of the weeds, and continued to measure and fill bags. 

“Don’t worry about it now…I’ll tell you soon enough. For now, just stay at the front.”

Paul could tell he was being dismissed. Feeling desperate he thought of anything he could do, then it hit him. He noticed that the pile of green weed was on top of a sheet of plastic that dangled over the edge of Jimmy’s desk. Paul walked across the room and asked Jimmy, if he could help in any way. Jimmy annoyed, once again told Paul to get to the front. Having gotten close enough to the desk, Paul discreetly grabbed the edge of the plastic with his fingers and headed toward the door.

The marijuana flew onto the ground in massive flurries of green. 

Jimmy reacted just as Paul had hoped. He began screaming, “You damned idiot! I got to sell this weed! Do you know how much it’s worth! Idiot! Pick it up! Damn it, pick it up! Don’t lose any of it. I can’t sell it to this town’s stupid kids if you leave half of it under the desk! I’ll be damned if I let you near my coke, man!” With that, he shoved Paul to the floor to pick up the strewn pile of pot.

Before Paul had gathered more than a handful, he could hear the front door’s bell jingle. The place was soon full of police officers. They handcuffed Jimmy and opened his cabinet to find cocaine, more pot, and a new drug Collier called “crack.”

Paul knew he had done what he’d been sent to do. Walking over to Collier, he handed him his wire. He then handed him the envelope of “bonus” money Jimmy had given him.

Collier looked in the envelope; he then asked Paul, “What is this?”

“It is money that Jimmy gave me and called a ‘bonus.’ I know now why he gave it to me…to keep me from asking questions. I can’t keep it. If it can’t be used for evidence, may be you could give it to someone who can use it. Maybe somebody to keep kids off drugs.”

Collier replied, “You are the real deal aren’t you, Forrester…an honest man….”

“I try to be.” Paul stated plainly.

Collier suddenly walked up closer to Paul, and keeping his voice low he replied, “You need to get out of here. My men found your name in the database and have contacted George Fox. He should be here in a half hour.”

A startled Paul asked, “Why would you help us?”

Collier smirked, “Let’s just say once upon a time I worked for a little agency called the Federal Security Agency. I answered to a man named George Fox. If I were to guess he probably thinks you are an alien… the green monster that he obsesses over and chases…right?”

Paul couldn’t speak, but merely nodded.

“Yeah, the guy is insane and if he couldn’t manipulate the system so adroitly, he would be locked up in an insane asylum. Besides, you’ve proven to be a better man then I have ever known Fox to be…Go!”

With that Paul thanked him and left.  
  
---  
  
Two blocks from the studio…

Scott and Amy sat in the truck nervously waiting in an alley. Scott sat behind the wheel and kept looking at his watch. Amy held onto his right arm and leaned on his shoulder. There was no one she feared more than Fox. He was responsible for the death of one of their kind only five months ago. She still heard the gunshot in her nightmares.

Scott glanced at Amy’s pale features and kissed the top of her head.

“He’ll be here soon, and then we will leave. Don’t worry,” Scott said reassuringly.

Scott could hear police sirens nearby and hoped that that indicated the raid had gone successfully. He knew that the nerve-wracking minutes would be waiting to see if Paul could get away after the raid.

Looking out the windshield, Scott suddenly saw a stream of state police cars and a few “federal” looking black cars. His instincts kicked in, and he ducked, tugging Amy down with him. Keeping his eyes slightly over the dash, he watched as the cars passed. In a moment he felt the alarm of knowing Fox had arrived. He’d seen him driving the third black sedan.

As soon as the last car went by, Scott told Amy to sit up. He turned the key and started the engine. He did his best to try to come up with a plan. The best he had was drive around the block and hope that Paul could jump into the truck. In his heart he was sure they could in no way out-run federal agents and state police in this rusty old truck, but he had to try to save his dad.

As he started to move forward, a noise at the side of the truck made them jump. Scott looked at his rear view mirror and smiled at the sight of his dad.

Scott and Amy moved over to allow Paul into the driver’s seat. Relief flooded Scott’s mind. His dad was safe.

“You were not going to leave me, were you?” Paul said with a smile as he jumped into the truck.

Scott smiled at his joke. 

“No, I was planning a rescue mission,” Scott said, and then asked, “How did it go?”

Paul explained what had happened at the studio. Scott was grateful to Officer Collier, although not surprised that Fox had trouble making friends. Scott told his dad that Fox was in town.

Paul nodded and cautiously drove the truck out of the alley. Soon they were carefully weaving through back streets until they found the highway. 

Paul looked at Amy and Scott and asked, “Which way?”

“Well,” Scott said weighing the options, “We have fifty bucks to our name, so I suspect we’d better choose the cheapest direction.”

Then Amy piped in, “South.”

Scott and Paul looked at her. Paul asked, “Why south?”

“I read in a book there is a magical land with mice that talk….” she said, with wonder in her voice.

Paul looked mystified; he had never heard of such a place. 

Scott laughed, “Head south, Dad. I guess we are going to Disneyland...but we will definitely need more money.”

And with that, Paul turned the car south.

As the car ventured down the road, Paul couldn’t help but ask, “Scott, do the mice really talk?”

________________________The End___________________________________________________

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I had a lot of fun with the title. What is the Green Monster...jealousy, pot, Paul and his kind, or maybe all three? The drug storyline seemed to be very popular in the 1980s, so I used it.

Fox is one of my favorite bad guys to write. He is pure obsession. As a young person watching Starman on TV, I was struck by his evil desire to kill Scott, the “offspring,” even more than Paul. So, I took it further here. I enjoyed contrasting his fears of alien reproduction with Scott falling in love with Amy, who could one day have some little hybrids of their own. Be afraid, George...be very afraid...


End file.
